We were just about to start our English lesson, but that part isn't so clear now. I was still too energized from the morning recess break we'd just returned from. In third grade, we could still enjoy three rich helpings of recess, before eventually getting weaned down to a 30 minute lunch break in high school.
One time, a few other kids were singing a song together as they gathered by the school entrance, waiting to get back in after their break.
. . .
Little Bunny Foo Foo
hoppin' through the forest,
scoopin' up the field mice
and boppin' em on the head
. . .
But wait, they were singing something else. I've heard all about Little Bunny Foo Foo, and there was some change to the words sung to our familiar melody. It wasn't the familiar bunny we all knew who bounced through the forest, harassing field mice. no, this rabbit wasn't in the forest, but ...
Little Bunny Foo Foo
hoppin' through McDonalds,
scoopin' up the french fries
and chompin' em on the head
along came the green manager
and he said,
Little Bunny Foo Foo,
I don't want to see you
scoopin' up my french fries
and chompin' em on the head
And now I'll give you three chances,
and if you keep it up,
I'll cook you into a hamburger!
Hahaha! Genius!
I could just imagine that rabbit running over the shiny tile floor and swiping fries from unsuspecting customers. Watch out little bunny, you could be in a colorful paper wrapper next! If I would have heard this any other time besides English class, I might have dismissed it as something trivial and not remembered it. However, this was at school, where things looked a lot more funny than they might have.
Compared to a boring lesson about verbs and nouns, this was gold. a rabbit scooping field mice? hilarious! bopping them on the head? side-splittingly funny!
I walked through the hall towards my next class, the words still tingling with hilarity in my mind. I tried settling down at my desk, but the class wasn't quite focused on our lesson and I thought I had time for another round of song. My desk was at the back of the room anyway, and a bunch of students sort of blocked the teacher's view of me if I ducked down a little bit.
Little Bunny Foo Foo,
I don't want to see you
scoopin' up my french . . .
"OK class, today we will be studying nouns. Please look at your sheet. There are some sentences that we will use as examples. I want you to underline the nouns. Who can tell me . . ."
". . . and chompin' em on the head . . ."
Some of my classmates were still giggling with delight over the novel changes someone had made to our song, and I wanted to put on a show. Another meme floating around our adolescent minds around that time was to speak in a baby-voice, emphasizing "w"-sounds. Even though pronunciation was not officially part of our curriculum, this deliberate step backwards ran counter to most teachers' spirit of good education and was generally frowned upon.
"Widddddooo Bunny Foow Foow,
I down't want to see woo . . . "
Since our teacher had now officially started our lesson, class was in session and we were expected to pay attention. Any interruptions were fair game for a reprimand. The new lyrics, now sung in a mischievous voice, caught our teacher's attention. She broke step in her lesson and tried to cut my performance short.
"Excuse me young man, I need you to pay attention now. Recess is over. Please take a look at your sheet and underline the nouns."
I was already familiar with the lesson she was giving, and wasn't especially interested in following through on every detail of what she had to say. Nouns, ok. I understand those. OK,. . .
The children opened the door of their house. They played in their yard with a red ball.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. OK.. . . children . . . door . . . house . . . their . . . they . . . yard . . ball
I blazed through most of the lines. This lesson was boring. The teacher had already made her point, and wasn't making it quite as interesting as it could have been. Nouns are words that describe people, places or things. There are single nouns, plural nouns, pronouns, and even nouns that describe ideas or feelings. I get the point. Before I lost track of where I stopped mid-song, I was back to singing.
. . . awoooong came wuuuuh gweeeeeen managwuuurrrr
and he swaaaaeeeed . . .
In an irritated tone, she turned away from the board and looked towards me. She lowered the hand that held a piece of chalk and looked straight at me.
"Excuse me, I've asked you before to pay attention. If you're going to speak, please talk properly. You really need to focus on our lesson now. You can't learn if you're not paying attention.
Maybe she would just ignore me if I pretended to pay attention for a while. I could just sing it quietly so that a few people around me could hear and I could keep the show going. I was on a roll, and my audience was expecting me to at least finish another verse.
. . .And nowwwwwww I'll give wooo tweeeeee chances,
and if wooooo keep it wup, I'wwwwlll . . . .
"Stop singing. This is the third time I've asked you to stop. I can't trust you there in the back of the class, so you have to move up front where I can see you. Come over here, and sit in this desk."
I wouldn't be finishing my song any time soon. I'd been gooned.